


LITTLE LIFE

by thoughtsdemise



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Gore, Guilt, Horror, Major character death - Freeform, Nightmare Fuel, Pain, Psychological Horror, Torture, Warped Reality (AU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtsdemise/pseuds/thoughtsdemise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hidden within the dark there is life yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	LITTLE LIFE

Pain rips over the small protoform.

Fear tears into a tiny spark that flutters and heaves.

The sticky spill of energon dripping over plating leaves a trail of droplets along the stumbling path of the reaming beat that echoes within the inky blackness.

Rewind stumbles over the shards that had been Perceptor.  The lead science officer’s plating partially melted to the scraped and beaten haul.  Amidst the remains Rewind convulses.  Only the blinking red light of his camera puts the strength back into little legs to stand despite the carnage around him.  The promise he made to himself eons ago,  _ no matter always a record make _ , clear in his processor.  Rewind swivels his head to take in what was left of the science facility.

_ Brainstorm had held onto Perceptor’s hand desperately as the microscope was run piece by piece into the mobile smelting pit.  The fissures upon his cooking plating cracking and oozing the lower density metals of his protoform as he is cooked from the inside out.  The upper half of Perceptor given over to a mech who sported rotating blades within the middle of his expansive chest; the big Decepticon had made short work of the heated oozing slag that had still contained the scientist’s faltering spark. _

_ Brainstorm had screamed.  The remaining hand had still twitched with neural pulse circuits.  He could only stare dully as the jagged remains of a great sword was dug through his frame splitting him open to allow the sparkeater easier access to chew on his spark.  The pet beast had mauled the cocky scientist tearing his chest and face apart. _

Rewind braces both hands against the haul of the ship.  His internal systems begin threatening to completely shut down.  He tilts his head back and searches for his other half through a commlink.  Only blankness echoes back at him along the line.  He shuts off his audios because he swears he can hear Chromedome calling for him.  He turns to restart his path through the broken remains of the Lost Light.  He pulls up short as a familiar surprised silhouette stares at him.  The little cassette reaches for the wavering image with his one good hand.  His tiny fingers grasp only empty air and blackness of space a moment when the vision passed.  He chokes back a frustrated scream.

“Domey.”

He traces the cracks in his armor from being held by a brutish servo.  He wobbles before continuing on his trek.  His self-imposed journey to record the ends of his crewmates he had not when he finally fled.  A torn apart storeroom door draws his camera next.  He is tempted to pass by but the horror in the facial plates of the slaughtered draws him like a moth to a flame.

_ Tarn’s fist tightens around Drift’s neck, the other fist guiding his sword through Hound’s grill to slowly drive through his frame to his spark.  Drift can only watch in detached pain as he murders Hound.  Drift useless arm hanging by his side is torn off and thrown to the sparkeater as a chew toy.  Vos pulls needle fingers from inside Ratchet’s side and lets the larger mech slide to the floor to twitch.  Kaon lifts Ratchet’s helm and smiles at the optics scanning his face.  He pats a cheek and withdraws a drill from subspace. _

_ The tip digs into Ratchet's optic, and he is no longer silent.  Drift jerks forward to help but is pulled against the energon coated Tarn.  The tank grips his chest in a crushing blow.  The sound of an optical nerve shattering and the grind of metal draws Drift’s sight to Kaon drilling out Ratchet's other optic.  The swordsmech tries to struggle despite the pressure around is spark closing in fast.  The only thing he can do is watch as Vos inserts a long needle into Ratchet's chest and pops his spark without a second thought.  The ex-Decepticon continues to stare blankly at the fallen medic as Kaon and Vos start in on him while he is held in Tarn’s grip.  They were saying something about punishment and deserved, but he could no longer hear their words around his screams of pain and fear. _

Rewind’s gaze makes quick work of the remaining scene before him.  Ratchet dropped to Drift’s right and Hound posed to Drift’s left.   _ The two mech who had helped hold him together after Rodimus had… _ Rewind’s small form shakes as he moves on.  There wasn’t any point to linger over the dead, not when he had one last death to catalog before he could find a small space and chase away his remaining spark to join the others. 

He lingers at his and Chromedome’s quarters.  Again the silhouette of his lover plays over his optics.  This time he is with Nightbeat.  Both mechs seemed surprised to see his small form.  Rewind stares at them sadly but doesn’t approach like last time.  He knew that these ghosts were there only to torment his spark for living through the nightmare when he should have faded beside his lover.  He moves away from the frames reaching for him.

Rewind leans heavily against a wall.  He was already using the last of his internal energon to walk and record.  He has no more for any type of emotional functions yet he cannot keep the keening scream from his vocalizer as he lifts his foot covered in Chromedome’s energon.  He settles onto his hands and knees next the gray frame. 

Fingers tremble as they begin to remove the needles from the familiar optical band.  Rewind’s small engine hitches as the dull tink of the mnomosurgeon needles echoes about the broken remains of the ship.  The little cassette runs the breath of his camera’s lens over the body.  He nuzzles his helm against Chromedome’s shoulder.

“Domey.”

He chokes on a vent and draws away from the cold frame.  Stumbling back, he searches for his place to extinguish.  Out of the corner of an optical sensory, he sees the pulled apart frame of Magnus.  He crawls inside and curls in on himself.  He lets his camera continue to roll.  It would use the last of his fuel stores, and he’d be able to extinguish to join the others.  He ignores the voices and footsteps.   _ They’re ghosts anyway.  Just please… _

“Domey.”

A shadow crosses his fading vision.  “Well what do we have here?”


End file.
